


On Decisions Made Poorly

by harper_m



Category: Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-26
Updated: 2012-08-26
Packaged: 2017-11-15 20:41:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harper_m/pseuds/harper_m
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Fourth Annual Femslash Kink Meme. Prompt: Emily/Andy (blackmailee), service under blackmail</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Decisions Made Poorly

At first, the “requests” had been little more than an annoyance. Water, ice cold, or an additional hour added onto her day. Tasks that Emily didn’t want landed on her desk, and she would grit her teeth and do Emily’s work, watching as Emily handed them over as her own. She thought about defiance, about suffering the consequences of her action, but at the last minute would hold back. Miranda had the power to crush her. She had the power to take all of Andy’s future hopes and dreams and turn them to dust.

This, though, might be the thing that sent her over the edge.

Emily was watching her with a malicious glint in her eyes, legs spread and skirt inching up her thighs. She’d made her “request” and was waiting to see if Andy would capitulate, and Andy wasn’t sure whether Emily was more excited at the prospect that she would or that she wouldn’t.

It’d been a stupid mistake, forging a letter of recommendation on Miranda’s letterhead and faxing it over from the office. It had been even more stupid to get caught.

“It’s your choice, of course,” Emily said with a shrug. “It’s not as if I’ll be sad to see you go back to… where was it? Iowa? Oklahoma?”

Andy wanted to lash out, but it was true. If Miranda found out, New York would be closed to her.

“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?” she asked, a last gasp tactic. “Think about what you’re asking.”

“Oh, I have,” Emily said with a wicked smile. “Tick-tock, Andy dear.”

That was it, then. No way out. As she settled onto her knees behind Emily’s desk, Andy was hyper-conscious of the glass doors behind them. The office should be empty – it was late. Very late. Still, there was a chance they’d be surprised, that someone would walk by and see her with her tongue buried in Emily’s pussy.

She was breathing shallowly as she followed Emily’s directions. Slide her hose off. Careful now; they were expensive, cost more than Andy’s entire outfit, she had no doubt. Good, now the underwear. Do it slowly. She was sure Andy knew how to tease. Now the skirt. Slip it off. She didn’t want it wrinkled, and didn’t want it in the way. She wanted to see every second of this, and Andy had best make it good. Look. See what you’re going to worship. It’s a fresh wax. Very pretty, isn’t it? Say it.

“Very pretty,” Andy murmured, her voice cracking.

“Have you ever done this before?” Emily asked, the look in her eyes indicating she already knew the answer.

Andy swallowed hard. “No.”

Emily let the admission settle between them before saying, “Go on.”

Andy’s first lick was tentative. She’d closed her eyes, thought that maybe she could pretend. What, she didn’t know, but it didn’t matter anyway. There was no way to escape the taste of Emily on her tongue, the smell of her skin and her arousal, the soft sound she made as Andy fumbled.

“You can do better,” Emily said, but there was a breathless note in her voice. “Eyes up here. I want you to watch me.”

It wasn’t the easiest position, but Andy did as bid.

“Find my clit. Surely you know where it’s supposed to be, or perhaps that’s why you’re so spectacularly bad at this. Did your Neanderthal of a boyfriend never use his mouth on you?”

Andy found herself wanting to defend Nate, but didn’t. Emily wasn’t really looking for an argument.

“Oh.” Emily’s head tilted back. “Oh, that’s better.”

Emily’s clit was a hard nub against her tongue. She pressed and rubbed hard against it, surprised at the way it felt to touch one so intimately, and saw the way Emily’s hands tightened on the chair’s arms. She softened her touch and watched as Emily’s eyes flew down to hers, desperate.

Maybe there was power in this after all. Andy was startled to find she didn’t hate that.

Emily’s fingers wound through her hair, pulling her closer. “Touch yourself,” Emily said, voice hoarse. “I want your hand between your legs.”

The demand surprised Andy. The wetness her fingers encountered as they slipped inside her tights surprised her even more. Did she actually like this, she wondered? She could taste nothing but Emily; smell nothing but Emily; see nothing but Emily; hear nothing but Emily. Emily’s arousal was fresh and tart against her tongue and her soft, suppressed cries were faint but audible. Her fingers were rough in Andy’s hair, pulling, drawing Andy in closer to her. She had to think that if Emily had begun this as a twisted punishment, then for both of them, the game may have changed.

“I want you to come,” Emily said, the base word sounding somehow gorgeous with her clipped accent. Her hips were rocking against Andy’s face, and Andy could see where sweat had dampened the hair at her temples. “Do that for me. Show me how much you like this. Show me what a little slut you are for me.”

Andy had never really liked dirty talk, but somehow, this was different.

She moaned against Emily, her tongue licking in hard, fast strokes. Her fingers slipped against her own clit, and it took little more than the tightening of Emily’s fingers in her hair to send her over the edge. She jerked, gasped, and Emily pulled her hard against her, nearly smothering her. She felt fresh wetness on her chin and heard Emily’s keening cry, dampened as it was by the way the blood was rushing through her ears.

When released, she fell back on her knees, panting. Emily’s face was flushed, her legs spread lewdly. Andy couldn’t stop staring at her pussy, wet and gleaming, at the place where her mouth had just been.

“Tomorrow night,” Emily said, a slight tremble in her voice, “you’ll stop by my flat after you deliver the book. Do you understand?”

Andy wiped a hand over her mouth and nodded. Her face was wet with Emily. Covered with Emily. Tomorrow night, maybe it would be again. “I understand,” she said, and wondered why she wasn’t more upset.


End file.
